


Written Memories

by magic_kiwi



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Amnesia, Angst, Flashbacks, M/M, Memories, Post S7, water metaphors are used a lot
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-02
Updated: 2020-09-07
Packaged: 2021-02-27 15:53:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,818
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22089682
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/magic_kiwi/pseuds/magic_kiwi
Summary: Lance wakes up in the hospital, unsure of how he got there. The last thing he remembers is trying to drag Hunk out of the Garrison after a failed simulator run and running into Pidge. But after the doctor checks on him, he realizes it's a completely different story.
Relationships: Keith/Lance (Voltron)
Comments: 42
Kudos: 80





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Got this idea from a prompt I saw on Pinterest and I just had to write it out. I usually just write this when I'm bored and need to warm up the writing muscles, so updates will be sporadic. But it shouldn't be that long. I'm just an evil evil person >:3

It’s dark; an endless void in front of him.

He’s floating, his mind trying to fall back into the endless abyss of sleep that’s trying to drag him downwards again, but he forces himself to keep pulling against it. From what he can tell in his odd state of semi-consciousness, he’s been in one position for an extended period of time, muscles stiff from disuse.

Pushing against that invisible barrier more, he can make out two voices; one frantic, words rushed and slurring together, one he recognizes, while the other is calm and methodical and unfamiliar. He pushes more and he’s starting to piece together words and phrases from the stranger.

“…injuries…brain trauma…possible amnesia…”

Amnesia?

Wracking his brain, he tries to grasp the last thing he can remember. He was running the simulator with Pidge and Hunk, piloting through one of the Kerberos rescues Iverson was so keen on them learning from.

One last push, and everything comes filtering in. White room, the beeping of a machine, bright lights, three figures in various places and differing states, a bed, a needle in his arm, a mask on his face.

He blinks against the lights, groaning softly at the stark contrast from sudden darkness to brightness. The figures standing around all whip their heads in his direction, two of them immediately rushing over to him. _His parents_ , his brain helpfully supplies him with that answer.

There’re hands on his face, a hand gripping his own as he still adjusts to everything. His _mamá_ and _papá_ have tears streaming down their faces, smiling brightly at him, clearly relieved

The doctor walks over, dressed in the Garrison’s medical ward uniform, and takes the mask off his face. She smiles at him, pulling out a data pad.

“Hello, Mr. McClain,” she says, nodding in greeting as she looks over at one of the machines next to him, tapping something on the pad. “How are you feeling?”

“Like I got hit by a train.” His voice is scratchy, throat raw. He coughs. “What happened?”

“ _Mijo_ , you were in a car accident a week back,” his _mamá_ butts in quickly, handing him a cup of water. “A drunk driver. Hit and run. You scared us all to death. But you’re okay now.” She brushes a bit of hair away from his face, kissing him on the forehead.

“Yes, well.” The doctor clears her throat, Lance dragging his attention back to her and her pinched expression. “I just need to check a few things before I can discharge you, Mr. McClain. Is that alright?”

He nods, taking a sip of water, easing the burn of his sore throat.

“Good.” She grabs at one of the tools in her coat pocket, turning on the light. “Follow the light with your eyes; don’t move your head.”

He does as she says, eyes drifting as they follow the small light. Her nails click on the tablet’s surface as she types.

“Alright, look at me. Don’t look away and tell me how many fingers I’m holding up.”

She holds up a series of fingers, and he answers easily. More typing as she nods.

“One last thing before I can clear you,” she states. He feels his parents squeeze his hands, and he squeezes back the best he can.

“How old are you?”

He scoffs, trying to feign him normal personality. “Isn’t this supposed to be on my paperwork? I’m seventeen.”

His parents gasp.

“What was the last date you remember before the accident?” the doctor asks again.

“August twenty-third.” His mother pales slightly, gripping his hand tighter. Was that wrong? It’s the last date he can remember clearly.

“Year?”

He says the year, and he hears his mother choke on a sob, her hands leaving his and she curls into his _papá_. The doctor visibly stiffens, almost robotically typing notes on the data pad.

His heart pounds in his ears, free hand gripping the sheets. Just from their reactions alone, he can already tell there’s something desperately wrong. He worries at his lips, waiting for the doctor to say something.

It’s dead silent for a beat.

Two.

The doctor sighs, setting the tablet down, breaking the silent tension brewing in the room. His _mamá_ cries silently, just out of his view. He’s solely focused on the doctor, trying to prepare himself for the impending news.

“I suspected this could’ve happened, but not to this extent,” she mumbles.

“What?” Lance questions, his voice cracking and heart racing, the steady beat of the heart monitor increasing. “How long was I out?”

“Mr. McClain.” He swallows. Her voice is stretched thin. “While your accident was a week ago and you’ve been slipping in and out of consciousness during that time, it seems that the head trauma you received was extensive enough to cause problems with your memory. I still might need to run a few more diagnostic tests, but from what I can tell from this alone, the accident was severe enough to cause amnesia.

“You’ve lost roughly 5 years of your memories.”

_Five years?_

_I lost five years of my memories?_

_The accident was that bad?_

_What have I forgotten?_

_WHO have I forgotten?_

More and more questions flood his mind, everything fading into the background. His parent’s questions and the doctor’s words are muffled, his vision hazy and blurring at the edges, his mind trying to grasp at anything more recent than the failed simulation that apparently happened five years ago.

There’s a brief tug on a memory, like a fishing pole going taught with a catch struggling to get away. He tries to hold onto it and reel it in, desperate to keep ahold of anything that could fill in the fuzzy gaps. But the lines snaps, fish swimming away to the recesses of the fractured pond of his mind.

The door shuts with a swish, the doctor nowhere in sight. He didn’t even hear her leave, let alone any of the helpful information she most likely gave him to help speed up his recovery. His parents are talking in hushed whispers, but he can’t discern their conversation.

Lance didn’t realize it before, but the entire time the doctor was in the room, he was fidgeting with his left hand, like he was spinning a ring around his finger. A closer look at it reveals a slightly lighter band of skin around his fourth finger.

He can’t breathe.

“ _Mamá_ …” he chokes out, tears threatening to spill over. He’s married? Was married? Engaged? He can’t remember and it’s suffocating. The heart monitor picks up tempo again and he can feel the pressure on his chest increasing, forcing the air out of his lungs.

“Oh, _mijo_.” His mother’s voice breaks as she grabs his hand, holding it between her own. “It was a year ago. You two were so happy, but he broke it off; said it was for the best, it wasn’t right.”

Crystal drops run down his face, all the building pressure too much. She goes to wipe the tears away, but Lance brushes her off.

“I’m okay, _mamá_ ,” he sighs, smiling the best he can. “I guess it’s better if I don’t remember it, huh?”

His father sighs in relief, unusually quiet. When Luis broke his ankle when they were little, his dad was in a tizzy, constantly talking with Lance’s older brother to make sure he was okay. Now, instead of fussing over him like he’s only two, he’s dead quiet, lips sealed shut of an unknown reason. Or a reason he can’t remember.

His mom nods. “Maybe it is. But the doctor said it’s best to reintroduce things to you slowly so it’s not so overwhelming, see if you can start remembering some things. At least it’s good you didn’t forget everything. I would’ve been a wreck if I lost my boy.

“You should be able to come home with us in a few days. They still need to run a few more tests, but after that-”

 _Knock knock knock_.

His mother throws a panicked look at his dad as he gets up to check the door. Lance quirks an eyebrow at her, but she shakes her head, plastering a smile back on her face and kissing his forehead.

There’s something they aren’t telling him, but it makes a little sense since he just woke up ten minutes ago and was told he has amnesia. They don’t want to bombard him with information, he guesses.

The knocks come again, faster paced, more frantic. With his father standing in his line of sight, blocking his view, the door hisses open. He can just make out Garrison-issued boots in front of his dad’s feet, their breathing heavy and wet, like they’ve been crying for some time and ran here.

“Is he-?” Their voice is hoarse and choked, shaking so much with just the two short syllables. It’s familiar, achingly so, but he _can’t remember_ , can’t put a name or face to the voice. His father nods, hand braced on the door.

“Good,” they whisper, voice breaking. “Good. Can I-” They try to maneuver past, indigo eye meeting ocean blue for the shortest of seconds before his dad stops them, preventing the person–a man–from coming in.

But that second is all he needs for his eyes to go wide. Because he does recognize the face, the hair, the eyes, albeit older and more mature looking but he could pick Keith out of a crowd any day. It’s just _confusing_ because he was booted from the Garrison and Lance took his fighter pilot spot, so why is he in a cadet uniform again? And there’s a scar running from under his eye down his cheek.

He almost misses it, but he sees his dad press something into Keith’s hands. There’s an eerie silence that settles in the room, seconds ticking by slowly. It’s interrupted by a sharp intake of breath and stomping receding away from his room.

He tries to move, to get up and chase after his rival and ask the questions that are plaguing his mind. Because he feels another memory catch on the line, trying to drag him closer to Keith, but the farther the footsteps get, the weaker the tugging becomes before it settles down back to the back of his mind, hazy and unclear.

His mom squeezes his hand tighter as his parents meet eyes. “We’ll leave you alone to rest, _mijo_ ,” his mom says, smiling at him and pressing a kiss to his forehead. “Holler if you need anything, okay?”

He nods numbly, his dad rubbing his shoulder comfortingly before they walk out of the room, door clicking shut behind them. It leaves him in silence, thoughts running a mile a minute as he tries to process everything that’s just happened.

Why was _Keith Kogane_ trying to visit him in the hospital?

And why didn’t his parents want him to see him?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, scream your bloody murder at me in the comments of your suffering XD
> 
> My Instagram: [@_magic_kiwi_](https://www.instagram.com/_magic_kiwi_/)  
> 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lance gets to go home from the hospital. Tension is high in the McClain household and memories are starting to slowly surface in vague pieces.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Slight TW for blood and self-harm in this chapter. It's not that bad, but if you're squeamish and/or don't like mentions of it, skip the italics section. It's only a brief paragraph mention if you're gonna brave it and read through it

A few test-packed days later, Lance is allowed to go home with his parents with the confirmed diagnosis of retrograde amnesia. The upside to that was the doctors said he shouldn’t lose any more memories and with time, he hopefully should be able to regain most, if not all his memories lost in the accident. The question now is how long is it going to be before everything comes back.

His parents drive him back home, radio silent as they zip along the highway. They chatter away about what’s changed in the five years he can’t remember. Veronica’s an officer at the Garrison now, Nadia and Sylvio are in elementary school, his _abuela_ … ended up passing away.

And the city. The sky’s dark, stars splattered across the dark expanse of space above before he realizes that those are ships. Spaceships. Zipping around the city, docking and taking off from different spots. _Aliens_ walking around shops, talking with humans, selling things. He’s forgotten a lot. How could he have forgotten all this?

Soon enough, the car is parked in the driveway and he’s standing at the front door. His dad unlocks it and steps in followed by his mom. He takes a deep breath to calm his nerves and follows his parents in.

The second he closes the door behind him, there’s arms around him, squeezing the air out of him. There’s a pair of glasses wedged into his neck as Veronica hugs him tight, breath shaky.

“You’re gonna smudge your glasses, Ronnie,” he says, hugging her back just as tight.

“Fuck the glasses-”

“ _Mija_!”

“Don’t do that again! Jesus Christ, you scared me so bad!” She has him by the shoulders, shaking him.

“I’ll try not to, but you know me: I’m accident-prone,” he responds, pushing her glasses back in place and pulling her back into another hug. There’s another set of arms, and another until all his siblings are in a group hug around Lance. It’s warm and comfortable even though there’s a hand pressing on a bruise but whatever. He’s with his family again.

Everyone pulls away, Marco ruffling his hair as he passes by. He gives Lisa a hug, patting her back as he pulls away to crouch down in front of Nadia and Sylvio, who are hiding behind their mother’s legs. Smiling, he opens his arms for them and they come crashing into him, knocking him onto his back and they hold onto him tight.

“You remember us?” Nadia asks, voice wobbling as she fights back tears.

“How could I forget my favorite niece and nephew?” he questions back, hugging them tighter.

“We’re your only niece and nephew, _Tio_ _Lance_ ,” Sylvio huffs annoyed but still smiling. The response has him pausing, a brief flash of exasperated sighs and fond eye rolls followed by laughing through his head before it’s gone. He blinks, confused.

“Of course. I knew that. Still means you two are my favorite.” He grins, though he can feel it fail to reach his eyes as he pats the kids on the back, both of them standing up off him. His parents call for dinner and he hears everyone shuffle out, but he stays laying on the floor, eyebrows pinched in confusion.

The water’s rippling in his head, something moving beneath the surface around the fishing bob. But nothing bites. And the water stills again.

He groans in frustration, pressing his hands against his eyes. Stupid drunk drivers. Stupid amnesia.

“ _Hermano_?” a voice calls out, his twin sister’s head poking out around the corner.

“I’m coming, Rach, don’t worry,” he huffs, rolling forward to stand. She nods, returning back to the kitchen.

Even with his five year memory gap, the house doesn’t looked to have changed that much. The couch is still pressed up against the back wall with the coffee table his brother, father, and him built still right in front of it. The wall covering the stairway is still littered with photos, ranging from the embarrassing baby pictures of him and his siblings to his parents and grandparents wedding photos. Even so, there’s a few gaps, like pictures should fit there but the frames are missing.

He’s curious about how his room looks, but the smell of chicken and rice drags him into the kitchen instead. His entire family is bustling around, setting up plates at the table and dishing food into serving platters. Everyone settles into a seat, food getting passed around until everyone has something on their plate before they start digging in.

Conversations dwindle as they eat, and it leaves Lance’s mind to wander back to the hospital. Not many people visited him, no Pidge or Hunk. It was just his _mamá_ and _papá_. And then Keith. He’s still stuck on why the drop out pilot in his class wanted to visit him. They were rivals, always arguing and at each other’s throats. Did something change in that five-year gap he can’t remember? It must have, but what were they? Acquaintances? Friends?

“Lance!” Veronica nudges his side, drawing him out of his thoughts. “You okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine. Just… struggling with memories, I guess,” he responds, pushing the food around on his plate, appetite suddenly gone.

“Well, what’s the last thing you really remember?” she asks, setting her silverware down.

“It’s a little fuzzy, but flying through one of the Kerberos rescue missions with Pidge and Hunk.”

“Maybe we can start there, then. If you’re feeling up for it, we can go to the Garrison and explore for a bit; see if anything sparks a memory.”

“Absolutely not,” their mother butts in, tone firm and gaze reprimanding. He throws a quizzical look at his mom, confused at the sudden outburst of emotion. “I just think he should spend some more time resting before going out.”

“He’s been resting at the hospital before he came home, _Mamá_. He might want to go out instead of being cramped up for longer.”

“ _Mija_ …” she rubs her eyes, everyone else quiet and awkward as Veronica crosses her arms. Sure, they all fight from time to time, but it’s not like his eldest sister to start an argument with their mother. The tension is thick in the room as Veronica and their mother have a stare-off, gazes sharp on each other.

“I’m gonna… go get some rest,” Lance mutters, silently grabbing his dishes and shuffling into the kitchen. The plate and silverware clack against each other as he sets them in the sink and he heaves a sigh, hands gripping the sink’s edge tightly.

His mind is so frustratingly empty, the water’s still and calm, so different from the chaotic waves crashing and tides shifting left and right. Maybe if he just focuses, tries to concentrate on fishing a memory out, he could remember something.

He closes his eyes, breathes deep in and out, and tries to think of anything that could pertain to the five years he’s missing. Nothing comes to mind, nothing to bait out the memories. A frustrated sigh leaves his lips and he runs a hand through his hair.

The thought hits him as he looks out the window. Stars speckle the night sky, spaceships rising and falling, streaking across the night sky like shooting stars. The water starts rippling, the line goes taught, something hooked on. But it’s just the water changing, shifting to a starry backdrop of constellations he doesn’t recognize. And the colors; they change and blend, from purple to red to green to blue to yellow to pink and to orange before-

There’s a sharp stabbing pain pressing behind his eyes, and Lance stops his train of thought. Sounds filter back in as he blinks slowly, the lights in the kitchen suddenly too bright for his eyes.

He can hear his parents’ quiet murmurs and siblings hushed whispering, sharing secrets of things he can’t remember now. It hurts. He’s isolated from so much now because of his amnesia.

Holding back the tears, he reaches over to the medicine cabinet and grabs some painkillers, popping two in his mouth and swallowing them dry. For now, he’s just gonna ignore it, ignore the secrets and hushed words and focus on trying to get his memories back.

* * *

_The Castle lights keep flickering on and off as he walks down the hallway. It makes him jump and shriek each time. His eyes snap to every shadow that moves, biting the skin at his lip as he hugs himself._

_There’s no doubt about it now. After being frozen in the cryo-pod Lance was cleaning while Coran was rambling on about… something, to the random groans from pipes and whirring of machinery, he can guarantee, one-hundred-percent, that this place is haunted. Go figure with the ship being dormant and unused for ten-thousand years._

_Speaking of the Altean, Coran wandered off after they finished cleaning the pods and Lance has no idea where he went. He’s been searching for a good few minutes now trying to find him and do whatever the royal advisor wants while listening to all the stories he has; it’s better than being alone with dancing shadows and squeaking floors._

_He’s about to give up and just go to his room where he’ll be safe. Just put on his headphones and hide under the blankets, albeit like a child, until everything stops looking so ominous or someone comes and drags him out by force. Maybe he should find Hunk and get some snuggles from him. Or cook with him or a while to get his mind off it all._

_And then the lights in front of him start shutting off._

_One. By. One._

_Someone’s gonna walk up next to him and tease him for muttering “it’s okay” ‘s to himself as his eyes are glued to the darkness in front of him, but he could care less at this point. Because for all he knows, some weird alien-thing Allura and Coran forgot about could jump out of the shadows at any moment and have him running and screaming for his life until he’s eventually mauled to death by whatever it is and then he’ll never get to go back home and see his family again holy shit holy shit holy shit-_

_A figure flickers further down the hall and then disappears, his heart rate spiking and pounding in his ears._

_“Coran?” he calls out, pulling the dumb mistake all people do in horror movies before they get kidnapped. “Is that you?”_

_No, you know what? This is probably some dumb prank Hunk and Pidge are pulling on him. They know he’s scared of anything horror-related and he’s hella flinch-y. The slightest move of a hand coming towards his face makes him jump ten feet off the ground. Still doesn’t do much to reassure him because it’s still buttfuck terrifying._

_“Ooooookay, stop messing with me guys, this isn’t funny!” His voice is wavering, fingers bunched up and white-knuckled curled around the sleeves of his jacket. When he doesn’t get a response, Lance breathes heavily, ready to turn around and book it somewhere else before anything else creepy happe-_

_“Help!!!”_

_That’s-_

_“Coran?”_

_He runs into the darkened hallway, closer to where he heard Coran. His shoes skid along the floor as he turns the corner, trying to find the Altean but he can’t see anything very well with how dark it is. And isn’t this the weird hallway with a ton of airlocks? What’s Coran doing here?_

_“Help! Somebody! I’m trapped in the airlock!”_

_There! There’s a red light flashing on one of the locks. That’s gotta be where Coran is! He knew this place was haunted! Why else would the cryo-pod and now the freaking airlock shut on its own?_

_He rushes over to the light, screeching to a halt in front of it as the automatic doors open in front of him. They’re glass, so he should be able to see Coran and unlock the doors for him._

_Except he’s not._

_The doors slam shut behind him with a thud and he nearly jumps out of his skin. Lance turns around in confusion, squinting against the airlock lights to see if there’s anyone outside manning the buttons. That’s gotta be the reason why the door shut; another stupid prank war, just like back at the Garrison._

_“Okay, ha ha, good joke you guys got me. Nice,” he huffs out._

_“AIRLOCK OPENING IN THIRTY TICKS. TWENTY-NINE. TWNETY-EIGHT.”_

_Oh shit. Panic mode: engaged._

_The timer’s counting down, drawl voice noting every tick as a light in the corner flashes to the tempo. There’s no way to open the sealed doors from this side, no button to push and the seam between the two panels is paper thin. No one’s outside to open the doors and there’s no way to stop the countdown without risking opening a hole on this side of the Castle. Only other option, start pounding on the glass and hope someone nearby will hear, but in a ginormous ship with only six other people, it’s not looking good. It’s better than nothing._

_“THIRTEEN. TWELVE. ELEVEN.”_

_The few seconds he’s managed to cry out for help has left his throat sore already from screaming past the lump of fear in his throat, fists sore and red from pounding on the glass. He can barely hear the timer with the sound of blood rushing in his ears._

_Somehow through all the noise and the thick layer of metal and glass, Lance can hear the rush of footsteps and swords clashing._

_He looks up just in time to see a robot parry the attack and kick Keith into the doors, body slamming into the metal. But it’s Keith! Someone can get him out before the airlock opens up!_

_The Red Paladin gets to his feet, guard up and ready to attack but Lance starts slamming his fists against the glass, drawing Keith’s indigo gaze to his. His eyebrows shoot up, eyes darting from him and the droid._

_“What the fuck are you doing in there?!”_

_He doesn’t have time to get the words out because he sees the robot prepping another swing at Keith, blade glowing blue and sparking with energy. He slams on the glass, pointing over at it and Keith barely manages to dodge the attack, moving out of the way._

_“I need help!!” he shouts, watching as Keith keeps getting pushed further away, blade locked with the robot’s. “Because if you don’t get me out of here right now, I’m gonna get sucked out into space!”_

_“TWO. ONE. DOORS OPENING.”_

_“I’M GETTING SUCKED OUT INTO SPACE!!!”_

_He knows how vacuums work in space. The air pressure from the air inside the ship is so much higher that it creates said vacuum and draws everything out to even the pressure in both areas. Which is exactly what’s happening right now, the oxygen slipping out into space as he’s suddenly dragged backwards._

_His hands scramble for purchase, trying to grab any open ledge to anchor himself. Hands grip a ledge and he digs his nails in, even though he knows eventually he’s going to get sucked out._

_It’s getting harder to breathe as he gulps desperately at the air escaping when he hears a thud on the doors. The robot is plastered on the front as they slide open, more air rushing out and dragging the bot along with it._

_Lance looks back at the open doors, Keith’s hair whipping in his face as he reaches a hand out to him. He stretches his hand out, the strain from the vacuum insane, but their hands meet and they clasp onto each other._

_Keith drags him out of the air lock, pulling him behind the inlet and slamming his hand on the button to close the doors. Lance slides down the wall, heart racing and breaths heavy. He’s lucky Keith was here when he was or else…_

_“What were you doing out there?!” Keith shouts at him, sitting next to him with his bayard still in hand, heaving in air. His eyes are wide, hair wild and sticking in all sorts of directions. If anything, Lance is in a similar or worse state._

_“I thought I heard Coran screaming for help! He said he was stuck in the airlock, but then I… I-”_

_He doesn’t realize he’s close to panicking before it’s too late. The adrenalin is wearing off and he notices how much his hands are shaking, the lump in his throat hard to swallow around as his breathing starts stuttering. He can still feel the pressure whipping at his jacket and his hands gripping onto the edge for dear life._

_He almost_ died _._

_His arm is tingling before he realizes that he’s started scratching at his wrist. The panic and fear still gripping his chest, a suffocating foot planted there and crushing his ribs. He can’t breathe, can’t hear, can’t think, just the constant thought of “I almost died” running on loop in his head and in front of his eyes._

_The train of thought is broken when he feels the hands gripping his and stilling the jerky movements along his arm, leather warm against his skin and hold tight. His ears are still ringing, but he looks up at Keith, eyes blurry and only then does Lance notice he’s crying._

_Keith’s saying something, mouth moving but he can’t hear the words. He can see the awkwardness and hesitation, nebula eyes darting back and forth before he sees Keith’s shoulders rise and fall. One hand lets go of his wrists and he can see the angry red lines staring back at him._

_Before the panic can settle in again, Keith’s pulling him in close, arm wound around his shoulders and hugging him to his chest. The other hand is still holding his wrist, guiding his hand to Keith’s chest and resting it over his heart. Lance would be in Bi-Panic Mode if he had the brain capacity for it, but the near-death experience is still ringing through his head like a mantra._

_But he knows the methodology Keith is using, trying to get them to breathe together so he can calm down. So he follows along, hands still pressed together as they breathe in and out. Slow and steady. Deep. Breaths._

_He comes back to himself slowly, each little detail filtering in. Like how Keith’s running a hand through his hair, the other hand still wrapped around his wrist. Their sides are pressed together, Keith keeping him close and it’s warm. Lance’s face is pressed into his neck and he’s practically sitting in his rival’s lap._

_Most shockingly of all, Keith is singing. Well, humming, but it’s an unfamiliar melody than he’s used to. His mama would sing to him when he had panic attacks at home to help him calm down. Keith’s voice is different, but the notes ring loud in his ears as his breathing steadies, matching the Red Paladin’s beat._

_Lance feels his eyes start to flutter, panic subsiding as everything slows down, sleep tempting him._

* * *

He wakes up in a daze, the light from his window blinding him as the sun filters in. That’s right, he was able to get a release from the hospital and came home last night.

It’s been a while since he’s been in his room, at least from what he can remember, but it’s still the same. NASA and other space posters plastered over the walls, closet cracked open, bookshelf crammed with textbooks and different fantasy novels, desk with papers scattered all over it under the window. His bed still has the same old blue comforter with mac and cheese and spaghetti sauce stains.

Blinking, he stares up at the ceiling, stick-on stars glowing still even with the morning light filtering in. He’s doing that thing again, fidgeting with an invisible ring as he thinks. He still has to figure that out.

But that dream.

He can’t remember all of it. It’s all hazy now, everything blurring together. Was it a memory? It’s hard to tell with the fog clouding everything, but he can see the rippling in the water.

Shrugging off the covers, he pads over to his bookshelf, thumbing over some of the books until he pulls out one. Flicking through it, he finds all the pages blank, ready to be filled. He sits at his desk, grabbing one of the pencils and opening the journal to the first page.

Anything he remembers from the dream, he jots down in his chicken scratch. There was a person, that much he’s definitely positive of. He had a panic attack, can still feel the phantom pounding in his chest, but also the hug he got. There’s a tune stuck in his head too, humming it under his breath.

It doesn’t make any sense whatsoever, but it’s a start. It’s just going to take a lot of time.

There’s knocking on his door, and Veronica peeks her head in. She grins at him, leaning against the doorframe. She only does that when she has something planned.

“Morning, _hermano_.”

“Morning. What’s that look for?” he asks, closing the notebook and stretching his arms over his head.

“Mama’s out. Get dressed. We’re going to the Garrison.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My Instagram: [@_magic_kiwi_](https://www.instagram.com/_magic_kiwi_/)  
> 


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Veronica decides to "kidnap" Lance and take him around the Garrison.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry this took me so long to upload! I've been busy finishing school, moving to a new place, and starting the semester that I haven't really had the time/motivation to write. Crossing fingers I find it again and can start uploading consistently!

“It definitely looks way different than I remember,” Lance hums next to Veronica as the stand before the Garrison. There’s still some things that match his spotty memories; the steel-enforced concrete wall surrounding the buildings, some of the fighter jets and cargo ships, the orange and army green cadet and officer uniforms. The one glaring difference is the giant orange bubble-like forcefield looking thingy that wraps around the whole campus.

“The particle barrier?” Veronica asks him, and he nods in response as she scans her badge at a checkpoint. A hole opens up in the barrier, allowing them to pass through before flickering back closed behind them. “It’s a long story, but basically, there’s this huge inter-galactic war going on. These aliens called the Galra are trying to conquer the whole universe. And for a while, there wasn’t any resistance; they’d just take over different-”

“So aliens are real?” he butts in, hands shoved in pockets as they enter the main building where he used to spend his days learning.

“Yes, aliens are real, _hermanito_ ,” she chuckles. “Now can I finish explaining?” Veronica glares at him playfully as he sticks his tongue out at her.

“I’m all ears, Ronnie.”

“When they got here, it was horrible. Admiral Sanda sent out fighters to try and stop the cruisers, but they did nothing and the whole squadron was…” She trails off, eyes distant as she starts picking at her nails. They pause their wandering around the halls; Veronica presses her back against the wall and Lance leans his shoulder against it so he can listen to his sister. “It was really bad. Commander Holt had this tech-”

“Wait, Commander Holt is alive?” His screech makes Veronica jump beside him, glaring at Lance as she not so subtly flicks him off while pushing her glasses back up the bridge of her nose.

“Yes, turns out that Commander Holt, Shiro, and Matt Holt were alive. They were captives on a Galra cruiser before Matt was rescued by intergalactic rebels, Shiro was rescued by another resistance force and sent back to Earth, and Commander Holt was rescued by the Paladins.

“Now if you would stop interrupting me-”

“Lips are sealed now, Ronnie,” he says, zipping his lips up and locking it, chucking the invisible key over his shoulder.

“The tech Commander Holt came back with from space allowed us to build the particle barrier so at least this Garrison facility was protected. We managed for a year, and then when we started running out of supplies, Voltron came to help.”

He squints, foggy waters shifting and sloshing. It’s familiar, déjà vu washing over him. He’s heard this story before, but he can’t remember where. And that word, Voltron. It rings in his head loud, echoing in his mind as it hooks onto the fishing line but refuses to be pulled in.

“Anything?” Veronica asks, a reassuring hand on his arm.

“It… sounds familiar, but I can’t remember from where,” he sighs, rubbing a hand over his eyes as he feels the familiar press of a headache against his skull.

“You okay?” She presses the back of her free hand to his forehead.

“Yeah, just… when I try and remember the missing stuff too much, I get headaches. It happened last night too.”

“Don’t push yourself too much, _hermano_. We can go home if you-”

“Officer McClain.” A feminine voice comes from behind Lance, and he spins around. In front of him is definitely an alien, her skin a lilac, almost pale indigo color. Two black horn pop out from her chin-length shaggy cut hair as she brushes a chunk out of her face. Her eyes are interesting; dark blue and piercing, surrounded by a yellow sclera. She’s decked out in a high-tech looking space suit, hand on hip and leaning her weight to one side.

In a flash, instead of the alien there’s another person, red jacket and black jeans in the same pose before it’s gone again. It leaves him blinking confused for a second to try and get his bearings again.

“Acxa.” His sister responds behind him. “Is there something you needed?”

“Yes, Commander Iverson sent me to get you. There’s a Coalition meeting that you’re required to attend in ten…” Acxa pauses, eyebrows scrunching together. “Minutes, I think the Earth term is?”

Veronica groans behind him and Lance turns to face her, catching her scrubbing at her eyes underneath her glasses. “Shit, I totally forgot that was today.” She readjusts her glasses, looking over at him. “Lance, you can wander around, see if anything clicks into place. If you need me, text me. I’ll call you after the meeting’s done and we can go back home, okay? But if you wanna go home earlier, call Luis or Marco.”

“Yeah, yeah, I’ll be fine, _hermana_ ,” he reassures, waving her off. “Have fun at your meeting.”

“As if,” she snorts in response, ruffling his hair as she walks past him. Her and Acxa walk down the hall side by side. He stays leaned against the wall, ready to push off and walk the other direction and explore more when he hears Acxa start talking again.

“The Blue Paladin is not coming with us? The other Paladins are going to be there and it’s been a while since they’ve seen him.”

Veronica sighs, and it sounds so tired and sad in his ears. “He can’t. After the last battle and the crash, he has amnesia. Five years of his memories just… gone.”

And then they turn the corner, anything else they say lost on him. Confused, he starts walking, the small exchange rattling around in his head.

Blue Paladin.

Other Paladins.

A battle.

A crash.

All of the key points ripple the waters, trying to come into focus. But the more he thinks about it, the more hazy it gets before the pond settles again and leaves him with no answers and a slight headache.

So he walks and wanders the halls. Everything he spots look familiar: the teacher’s lounge, the simulator rooms, the classrooms, the dorms. The only thing missing is the usual bustling crowds of students milling around before going to classes. A quick check of the time and date shows that it’s either that kids are already in classes or judging by it being early August, there’s no classes.

Or there’s something else he’s not remembering. Maybe that battle Veronica and Acxa were talking about and the whole war with an alien species.

He spots a few people that he recognizes, though definitely with some changes from what he last remembers. There’s Griffin and Rizavi, two of the fighter pilots in his class, one which was a major ass at times. At least he remembers Keith decking him that one time.

His heart stutters at the thought and he pauses his aimless walking about, squinting down in confusion as he grips his chest. Did something else happen to him after the car accident? Are there other medical issues he doesn’t remember? Something else entirely?

“Lance!”

The sound of his name snaps him out of his thoughts, eyes scanning the hallway until he sees a guy with long brown hair tied back in a ponytail and a scar on his cheek waving and walking towards him, a huge grin on his face.

Slowly, he raises a hand and waves back, head cocked to the side as he squints at the dude’s face. “Hi- oh, okay then.”

Ponytail cuts off his sentence by wrapping him up in a tight hug. Lance hugs back, though not as tight as the… stranger? He’s usually a touchy person and accepts hugs from anyone no matter how well he knows a person, but this one feels more meaningful.

It doesn’t last longer for a few seconds before Ponytail is pulling away, clasping Lance’s shoulders. “Oh man, it’s so good to see you up and kicking! Everyone was so worried. Katie’s gonna be thrilled!”

“Katie?” he questions back, eyebrows pinching in confusion. The name sounds familiar, but he can’t match the face. Did he meet her in the missing five years? The soft rocking waves against his temples has him suspecting that he did.

“You know, Katie? Please tell me this is just an elaborate joke,” Ponytail tries again, shooting him a confused look, but Lance can only shrug in response. “Green Paladin? My little sister? Snuck in here as a guy named Pidge Gunderson after she got caught snooping through Iverson’s files trying to find out what happened to me and my dad?”

_“Just so there are no secrets between us anymore, I can’t ‘man-up.’ I’m a girl.”_

“Pidge is a girl?” he asks as his- her voice rings around in his head. When did she say that?

“I thought she told you guys?” Ponytail counters.

“No- yes, I think she did?” he sighs. “I can’t remember. I was in an accident; a drunk driver hit me. Not everything’s right in the think box and I can’t remember the past five years.”

Ponytail opens his mouth to respond but gets cut off by a series of beeping. A check at his wrist has him swearing under his breath, blowing his bangs out of his face as Lance just stares in confusion at him.

“Shit. I’m sorry, I gotta go,” he says hurriedly. “There’s a meeting I have to be at. I’ll see you around?”

Lance nods, offering his hand. “Yeah, see you around…?”

“Matt,” Ponytail chuckles, smile not quite reaching his eyes as they shake hands. One last wave and Matt is heading off to whatever meeting he needs to be at; probably the same one Veronica is going to.

He starts walking around again, trying to spot the things that match his broken memories and the things that stand out and differ. It’s hard to keep track of all the changes, the beginning of another headache knocking against his skull.

Pausing in the middle of the hall, Lance, presses his fingers to his temples, trying to massage the pain away. His head is buzzing, like he’s resting his head against the car door.

Sighing, he looks at the door next to him. This one he does remember, and it looks like nothing has changed. The automatic doors of the flight deck loom in front of him. He was never allowed in as a cadet, but maybe that’s changed in the past five years.

He steps forward and the doors slide open for him. Grinning at the silent victory, he walks in and-

_Oh wow._

The hangar doors shut behind him as he stares jaw slack and eyes wide at the five giant ships in front of him, his head buzzing at the sight. Each is shaped like a lion, but with altering sizes and features and colors. There’s a bulkier yellow lion, a shorter green lion, a giant black lion with wings, a compact red lion, and a beautiful blue lion.

Lance stares at them, still slack-jawed at their beautiful designs before he realizes that the red and blue one’s eyes are glowing. It doesn’t even register to him until they start moving on their own, leaning their heads down in front of him.

Then he realizes the buzzing he’s been hearing is the two lions _purring_ excitedly. He reaches both his hands up, hesitantly patting the lions on their metal snouts. It’s strange: he expects the metal that they’re made of to be cold. The blue lion’s is, almost freezingly so, but the red lion’s is warm underneath his palm.

Something flashes across his vision, the red lion skimming the surface of a star and the blue lion diving and surfacing in an ocean. Fire and water.

“Holy shit, you guys are talking to me,” he mutters, glancing between them. The purrs pick up, as confirmation that he’s right, he guesses. But there’s also a confused note to it, like they weren’t expecting the complete awe he’s in.

Has he seen them before?

The purrs increase again, confirming his thoughts.

“Not sure how’d I’d forget seeing you two,” he hums, smiling at them. “You’d think even with losing five years of memories I’d remember seeing such beautiful creatures.”

He feels the worry in his chest, squeezing tight as their humming picks up in scared tones. There must’ve been a point and time he’s seen them from before his amnesia. Why else would two mechanical lions be telepathically “talking” to him in the middle of the Garrison? When did he meet them? How long has he known them?

Something ripples the waters as the lions raise their heads again, going back to how they looked when he first walked in. He tries to focus on it, catching himself fidgeting with the invisible ring again and almost turning to walk out of the hangar.

Suddenly, there’s images flickering in front of his vision, each only lasting a second before they change to something new. He barely gets time to process all the faces, but he sees Hunk and Pidge, working on something next to the green lion, Keith with a strange looking sword in his hand, slashing at a robot, Shiro, somehow still alive even after being pronounced dead after the Kerberos team went MIA, with a scar across his nose talking with a lady with long wavy silver hair and an older man with orange hair and a mustache.

There are more images, flashing by rapidly and he wants to catch them all but he can’t. The lions are doing this, he comes to realize. Maybe these are his memories and they’re trying to help him remember?

Then the pain crashes in, waves pounding against his head and causing a storm. It feels like his skull is being split in half, pressure pulsing against his eyes and ears ringing loudly. Lance squeezes his eyes shut, but the images are still flashing by and it _hurts_. He feels himself shaking, trying to tell the lions to stop but they won’t, and the pain starts becoming unbearable. His hands are over his ears to try and block out their purrs and hums but it doesn’t help.

One of the lions is whining in worry, before the other is joining too, realizing what they’d done. But there’s still frozen memories flashing across closed eyes, rain crashing and thunder rumbling in his head as the pain becomes too much. His knees give out on him, buckling as he crashes into the floor, head spinning and consciousness slipping through his fingers.

Instead of getting a face full of metal flooring, there’s a pair of arms around him that stop his fall. Lance’s eyes barely flutter open, wobbling on unconsciousness’ cliff, and he’s met with worried purple nebulas staring back at him before he tumbles over the edge.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

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